Voldemort and the Muggle Careers
by CrazyDreamerGirl
Summary: Voldemort has finally killed Harry and has gained immortality. Next on his to do list is to take over the Muggle world. How will he accomplish this, well read and find out, or you can just look at the title. But, read it!
1. Prologue: The Beginning of the End

**Disclaimer: **I own nothing, except for the plot.

**Summary: **Voldemort has finally killed Harry and has gained immortality. Next on his to do list is to take over the Muggle world. How will he accomplish this, well read and find out.

**Note: **Any mention of the seventh book comes from my imagination. Any coincidence that it does come true, well, that just means I'm psychic.

* * *

**Voldemort and the Muggle Careers**

**Prologue: The Beginning of the End**

The Dark Lord was pacing in his study. He opened his mouth to speak, well yell, but then closed it. He sat down and tapped his fingers impatiently on the arm rest. His red eyes narrowed in irritation. Maybe, if he tried hard enough, he could set the door on fire.

"I apologize for being so late. Pettigrew needed me to check under his bed again in case Black was hiding there," explained Lucius Malfoy. "I don't understand why. He died in the fifth book."

"Oh please, you know very well that Black came back to life in the beginning of the seventh book as my evil servant, but then broke the Imperious Curse and went back to his precious godson," explained Voldemort, watching Lucius walk in with his long, silvery blond hair flowing. He self consciously rubbed his head. _I wish I had hair like that, _he thought.

"Right, what did you need to see me for, milord?"

"It's time to set into action my plan to take over the Muggle world."

An evil twinkle in Malfoy's eye lit up. He drew his wand and said, "I've been waiting for this moment for a long time."

"No, put that wand away, we are not going to make them go bald."

Lucius frowned. He did not like it when the plan was changed. It irritated him a great deal, but he couldn't let the most evil and powerful wizard know that. He would die, just like that Potter brat. Just last week, Voldemort finally managed to kill Harry, The Boy-Who-Is-No-Longer-Alive. It was an intense battle, but evil prevailed.

"So, what is your plan?"

"Well, if we start a war with those Muggles, it will get a little hectic. I've chosen an alternative way, since they have all those nuclear weapons and bombs and guns and . . . tanks and jets and . . . I think that's all. Anyway, those Muggle weapons are quite annoying, and the more stupider-" Now Lucius was sure there was no such word as 'stupider,' but he was not going to say anything about it, even though grammatical errors bothered him a great deal. Just last week, he was ready to choke his son Draco for incorrectly using the word 'I.' "-Death Eaters are sure to get hit and die. We can't afford to lose more men as it is."

Voldemort stood up and circled Lucius. His eye twitched. _His hair looks even better from the back. Maybe he'll cut it and make a wig for me. . ._

_Why is he circling me? Is he sizing me up for something? I hope it's not for more robes, _thought LuciusJust last week, he had to model for the newest Death Eater robes. It was the same as ones before, except the new ones were an inch shorter and were made of cotton. They were much more comfortable and roomy. It made killing so much easier.

"Lucius, are you paying attention to me?"

"Sorry," the blond mad apologized. "What did you say?"

"My plan is to work my way up in Muggle society," repeated Voldemort.

Lucius blinked. "Excuse me?"

"I am going to pretend I'm a Muggle. I will work as any Muggle works. I will get paid, become rich, become a world leader, then wage an all out war against the other countries by sending spies in, using the Killing Curse."

Lucius blinked.

"Through all this, I will pretend that I am trying to stop this by having them sign a treaty, but that treaty is secretly a 'Hand-All-Power-And-Leadership-To-Lord-Voldemort' contract thing. All the major world leaders shall sign it, and I will rule the world! And since I have finally gained immortality, I will rule for a _really_ long time!"

Just last week, Voldemort did gain immortality. This was done by strange ancient ritual/sacrifice thing that involved a human sacrifice. Naturally, Harry Potter, The Boy-Who-Is-No-Longer-Alive, was the human sacrifice.

Lucius blinked, again. He paused for a moment to pick his words carefully. "If I may be so bold, if all the countries in the world are warring, then why would they sign your so called 'Hand-All-Power-And-Leadership-To-Lord-Voldemort' treaty? How are you going to get them in the same room with each other without them killing each other?"

It was Voldemort's turn to blink this time. "Imperious Curse," the Dark Lord replied simply.

It was amazing how many problems could be solved by using an Unforgivable. Just last week, well never mind, last week was just too busy. Besides, this one was a very _long _story.

"So, what will your first Muggle career be?" asked Lucius.

Voldemort grinned evilly and said, "You know, I've always wanted to be an ice cream man ever since the orphanage."

**

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**

**CrazyDreamerGirl: **This story was inspired by a strange hobby a friend of mine and I have. Please enjoy, and **review**! Or else Voldie will use an Unforgivable on you, just like on poor Johnny. . . As I said before, that was one _long _story. Excuse me; I must visit Johnny in the mental asylum now. He thinks I'm his savior, and I will rescue him from his 'everlastingly dark and evil torture that will test him in his faithfulness and obedience to gain eternal glory in the afterlife of Choco Paradise.'


	2. The German Ice Cream Man of Hell

**Disclaimer: **I own nothing, except for the plot.

**Summary: **Voldemort has finally killed Harry and has gained immortality. Next on his to do list is to take over the Muggle world. How will he accomplish this, well read and find out.

**Note: **Any mention of the seventh book comes from my imagination. Any coincidence that it does come true, well, that just means I'm psychic.

**

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The Random Careers of Voldemort**

**Chapter One: The German Ice Cream Man of Hell  
**

_Voldemort grinned evilly and said, "You know, I've always wanted to be an ice cream man ever since the orphanage." _

Lucius fixed Voldemort's red polka-dotted bow tie. The Dark Lord smoothed out his shirt and picked a piece of lint from his pants. He gazed longingly at the ice cream truck in front of him, especially since Draco had given it a new paint job.

The writing on the truck now read: 'Uncle Voldie's Special Ice Cream.' In the background was a painting of the Dark Mark. The skull and the snake coming out of its mouth were elegantly painted. It almost brought tears to Voldemort's eyes.

"I never knew Draco was such an artist," commented Voldemort.

"Come to think of it, neither did I," replied Lucius.

Now, imagine everything going all fuzzy for a flashback. . .

* * *

Draco was standing outside the ice cream truck with a can of paint and a brush. He dropped it in disgust. He called for their house elf Twinkie Hostess MilkyWay KitKat Snickers Twix Hersheys Kiss, but they just called her Penny. 

Penny came running up to him, grabbing his leg in a big hug. "What you need, Master?"

"Paint this truck. I'm going to torture a few Muggles."

* * *

The fuzziness came back for the end of the flashback. 

Lucius and Voldemort blinked in complete unison. "Did you see that?" asked the Dark Lord.

Lucius shook his head. The last thing he wanted was the most evil and powerful wizard to think he was crazy.

"Anyway, wish me luck. I'm off to start a whole new adventure."

"Break a leg," said Lucius as Voldemort climbed into the driver's seat.

Voldemort narrowed his eyes. "Break a leg?"

"It's a Muggle expression. It means good luck."

"Oh."

Voldemort made a quick check in the freezer. All the ice cream was accounted for. He shivered. The thermostat read 50 degrees. Who knew ice cream trucks were so cold? He turned the dial to 80 degrees and strapped himself in.

"Now, how am I supposed to drive this thing?" he asked himself, staring at all the buttons and dials and levers.

He found a manual underneath his seat. His red eyes skimmed the page quickly. He had a knack for memorization. He threw the book on the passenger's seat and threw the car into reverse.

Now, let's take a quick look at the manual. It read: 'German for Dummies.'

His first stop was Privet Drive. It took at least two hours to get there because he kept putting his foot on the gas pedal, and a second later on the brake. He was stopped several times by the police, which mysteriously forgot that they needed to give him a ticket for blocking traffic.

"Pop goes the weasel. . ." sang Voldemort. His eye twitched. That song was driving him crazy. After this was over, he was going to hunt down the man that created this song. If he was already dead, he was going to hunt down any descendants.

The truck lurched forward, causing Voldemort to bang his head against the windshield. A faint chuckling was heard outside. It was an abnormally large boy. He almost mistook him for a baby whale.

Voldemort stuck his head out the window, after hitting his head on that too. He forgot to roll the windows down.

"Can I help you?" asked the Dark Lord in such a sweet voice that even made cute, little baby bunnies vomit.

His face contorted into a smile that made the fat boy's fingernail's curl.

"You sell ice cream right?" asked the boy, suspiciously. No, this boy did not run after seeing Voldemort's red eyes, or his slits for a nose, or after seeing his demented smile. This boy was either very brave, or very stupid. The latter applies to this situation.

"Yes, what kind would you like?"

This was it! His first customer. After the first dozen or so children ran away screaming, he was getting impatient, very impatient. If only dear old Mum and Dad were still alive to see this.

"Alright, give me two scoops of rocky road with one scoop of strawberry above it and underneath it on a chocolate dipped cone. Oh, and put some nuts, sprinkles, and whipped cream."

Voldemort nodded and disappeared into the back.

He dropped to his knees. Everything had melted, causing a flood. He stuck his hand in the sticky liquid to search for a cone and a scooper thing. He never did figure out what the scooper things were called.

He had to roll his sleeves to his elbows to be able to find anything. He picked up a soggy cone and tried to fine the rocky road and strawberry ice cream.

Well, he found them. . .

He handed the fat boy his ice cream. The boy looked at it with disgust. The cone was filled to the top with a strange brown liquid with swirls of pink. A few sprinkles floated across the top with nuts.

"What in the bloody hell is this? And where's the whipped cream?"

"The whipped cream exploded on my face when I tried putting it on," explained Voldemort as he wiped white stuff off his face.

"I'm not paying for this!" yelled the boy. He squeezed his hand, but it was the hand holding the cone. It sprayed onto his face. He licked whatever remnants of ice cream around his mouth and continued on frowning. His face was adorned with sprinkles, nuts, chunks of cone, and a dripping mass of ice cream.

Voldemort was very angry now. "You are going to pay, or else!"

"Or else what?"

The Dark Lord pulled out his wand and proceeded to point it at him, until he heard an ear splitting shriek.

"Duddykins, what are you doing?" shrieked a woman with a very long neck. "How many times have I told to never accept treats from strangers?"

"He's a bloody ice cream man, and I'm 17!"

She took one look at Voldemort and screamed. Very smart. She wrapped her bony arms around the fat boy and attempted to carry him away. With one labored gasp, she managed to pick him up and carry him inside house number 12.

Voldemort blinked.

"You know, I never knew she could be so strong," remarked Lucius.

"Were you there the whole time?" asked Voldemort.

"Maybe, by the way, you could have used a freezing charm or maybe have conjured up more ice cream."

"I told you I wanted to do things the Muggle way."

"Whatever you say, hey, can I drive?" Lucius asked.

"Yeah," replied Voldemort, moving over to the passenger seat.

He gave Lucius the manual.

"I don't need it. I already know how to drive."

The Dark Lord gave him an odd look. Since when did a Pure-Blood know how to drive a Muggle contraption?

Meanwhile, a certain Vernon Dursley was trying to revive his wife from underneath his fat son. He only succeeded in getting a twitch. Oh, and the fat boy refused to get up. He said no to moving from his comfortable position, and being the kind, caring father that Vernon is, he let him stay there, crushing Petunia. What a brat.

**

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CrazyDreamerGirl: **What will Voldemort's next career be? Well, you'll just have to **review** to find out. Oh, and Johnny is doing a bit better. Thank you for you concern.


	3. Psychiatrist: Hookers and Demon Possessi

**Voldemort and the Muggle Careers**

**Chapter Two: Psychiatrist- Hookers and Demonic Possessions Galore**

"What!" yelled the former potions master of Hogwarts.

"Shh! Keep your voice down!" hissed Lucius.

Severus Snape paced back and forth in the library of Malfoy Manor. Earlier, he had gotten a very important message from their fastest owl. The handwriting on it was worse than the chicken scratches of Harry Potter, and that's saying something. He only managed to make out a few of the few of the words, such as 'Voldemort…crazy…muggles…why me?'

Right now, Lucius had just broken the news to everyone's favorite potions professor that Voldemort has gone mental.

"Are you telling me that Voldemort would rather work with muggles than kill them?" asked Snape.

Lucius nodded.

"You have to help me," the blond Death Eater pleaded.

"How? The Dark Lord has gone completely off his rocker! I remember a time when he would have killed puppies and kittens, even snakes, than socialize with muggles."

"I know, I know," replied Lucius with his head in his hands. He was sitting on his favorite sofa. It was the red one that looked like one of those therapist sofas where you could lie down on and spill all your secrets.

Snape sat down next to him with a look of complete horror. Those poor unsuspecting muggles. Killing them would have been less obvious.

"Has he started this plan of his?" he asked.

"Yes, he was an ice cream man yesterday."

"Great, I'll never look at ice cream the same way again."

"He actually thought a book that taught German was a driving manual," complained Lucius.

"German? You know what; I don't even want to know. The whole image of our Dark Lord as an ice cream man is enough to give me nightmares," Snape sighed. "I wonder if I have any dreamless sleep potion lying around."

After a moment of silence, Snape spoke again. "Has he said what his next career will be?"

Lucius shook his head.

"You know, I have a theory."

"What?" Malfoy asked.

"Since his defeat of Potter, he's been acting strange. It's like Potter was what made him complete. It gave him something to look forward to. Now that it's over, nothing and no one can stop him. He's trying to fill the gap that Potter made with these muggle careers."

Lucius looked at him with a look of awe. "You know, you might be right. Why don't we try bringing Potter back?"

"You mean necromancy?"

"Don't you have to give up an arm or something?"

"Yes, something like that," replied Snape with a twisted smile.

Obviously, the former potions master new something Malfoy didn't, and it seemed bad.

They sat in silence for an immeasurable amount of time, trying to think of a better plan than giving up an arm.

Soon, the door to the library opened, startling the two Death Eaters.

"Draco, what are you doing here?"

"The Dark Lord is here to see you," he sneered. _Why do I have to act like owl **now**? I was just getting busy with that mudblood Granger. Surprisingly, she's a good kisser, _thought Draco with a goofy, dreamy smile.

Snape and Lucius looked at each with a mixture of fear and constipation on their faces.

"Snape, what are you doing here?" asked Voldemort.

"I came to visit Lucius. If you have important business with him, I'll leave," said Snape, a little too quickly.

"No, no, no, I'm glad you're here. Has Lucius told you about my plan?"

"Yes, and I think it's wonderful."

"Good, you can help, too."

Snape made strange noise in the back of his throat. "Of course."

"So, what will be your next course of action?" asked Lucius.

"Psychiatrist."

That one word made Snape and Lucius flinch in fear. Who knows what kind of affect he'll have on poor, innocent suicidal patients?

* * *

Snape and Lucius were wringing their hands in unison as Voldemort talked to the secretary. How he had gotten a doctor's degree in psychology and medicine astounded them. It took years of schooling, but he received his in less than five minutes. The internet was such a useful tool. Well, that was what Voldemort told them when they asked about the degree. 

The two Death Eaters followed him inside with their heads bowed and their long capes flowing behind them. It created a very dramatic effect. The secretary shivered. Today was not going to be a very good day.

"Is that my favorite couch?" shouted Lucius.

Voldemort blinked. "Yes, I hope that you don't mind."

"No, of course not," replied Lucius through gritted teeth.

Snape covered his mouth with his head, trying to hide his smile.

"Now, I want you two to be my bodyguards. I heard that muggles that go to psychiatrists are mentally unstable. We don't want to risk me getting hurt before I rule the world, now do we?"

"No," they replied monotonously.

"Good."

The secretary entered with a patient's file covering her face. "Your first patient is here. Oh and here's their file." She threw the file across the room, hitting Snape in the face.

It was Lucius' turn to laugh.

Grudgingly, Snape handed Voldemort the file. He rubbed his nose.

"Does my nose look okay?" he asked the blond man.

"It's no more crooked than usual."

"Thanks…hey!"

"Stop acting like a couple of toddlers! My patient is here!" yelled Voldemort.

The patient in question was petite woman with dark circles under her eyes. She had overdone her make up as well. Her messy black hair gave her a deranged look. She was wearing a tight, red leather miniskirt and a shirt that didn't leave much to the imagination.

The three men in the rooms were left with their mouths open.

Voldemort cleared his throat. "Please, have a seat." His voice cracked.

She walked slowly because of her stiletto heels. She laid seductively on the sofa. They couldn't stop staring at her, mostly the chest area.

"So, Miss Valentine, what exactly are you here for?" asked Voldemort, looking at her file. _Keep your eyes down and stop thinking naughty thoughts, _he thought. _Oh my, she's leaning toward me! What do I do? What do I do?_

"What's your name, luv?" she asked.

"You can call me Tom."

"Tom, eh? It suits you, luv. You can call me Sheila."

"Okay, _Sheila_, what are you here for?"

"That lucky devil," whispered Lucius to Snape.

"You're married, you moron. Stop thinking all those wrong thoughts of yours. I know Legilimency."

"What happened to all that eye contact nonsense?"

"You're standing right next to me. There really is no point."

"You know what? I just found another reason why I love that sofa," said Lucius, leaning towards Snape.

Snape shoved him away. "You sick bastard."

Sheila was currently drawing doodles on Voldemort's sleeves with her finger.

"So, you mean to tell me that you sleep with every man you see," concluded Voldemort.

"Yes, for the right price, though," she replied licking her lips.

Voldemort stretched his collar. "Is it hot in here or is it just me?"

"Um, Miss Valentine, your time is up. Please pay at the front desk," said the secretary, who had quietly snuck in without anyone noticing.

"Alright," replied Shelia, pinching Voldemort's cheeks. She planted a kiss on his cheek, leaving a blood red imprint of her lips. He raised his hand to touch the place where she had kissed him.

Voldemort's eyes narrowed. "That secretary is going to die, painfully."

Snape and Lucius cowered in fear.

The next patient came in. It was Mr. John Greenstone.

"So, Mr. Greenstone, what are you here for?"

"My doctor sent me here. I've been hearing strange voices, and furniture moves without anyone touching it. And, sometimes, the temperature in my room reaches 10 below. Oh, and I have these blackouts where I won't remember anything."

Voldemort rubbed his chin. "I see. Do you ever have thoughts about suicide or murdering anyone?"

"Yes," he whispered.

"There's nothing to worry then. It's normal to feel like killing someone every once and awhile."

"Really?"

Voldemort nodded.

"See, I told you!" Mr. Greenstone said that, but that didn't sound like him. His voice was deeper and it sounded like he was speaking with two different voices at the same time. His eyes shined red for a second and his face looked greener. "Stop staring you two!" His head made a 360 turn.

Lucius and Snape jumped back in surprise. Snape reached for his wand. His hand was shaking.

"Um…what spell should I cast?" he frantically asked Lucius.

"I don't know! Try a freezing charm. He likes the cold!" Lucius hid behind Snape.

"Right!" The room was instantly made colder. Mr. Greenstone relaxed a bit. His head went back to normal.

Voldemort gulped. "Um, I'm going to prescribe these pills for you. It will help you relax and clear your thoughts if it ever gets too murderous, or if you feel like turning your head in a full circle," he said the last bit quietly.

"What did you say?" The demonic voice of Mr. Greenstone came back.

"Nothing," squeaked Voldemort. "Just take it! Leave, and you don't have to pay!" He threw the paper at him and ran behind Snape.

They watched Mr. Greenstone walk away on the sidewalk below them through the window. They saw him scare a little girl and run carelessly through a busy four way intersection without getting hit. The cars were magically being deflected from him.

"You know what?" Voldemort asked.

"What?" said Lucius.

"That man has the makings to take over my Death Eater army if I'm every incapacitated."

Lucius and Snape stared at him with fearful looks, and physically moved away from him as Voldemort was still looking for more signs of Mr. Greenstone.

The two Death Eaters snuck out of the room.

"What in the bloody hell happened to her?" asked Snape, covering his eyes.

"Greenstone," replied Lucius. His eyes were squeezed shut at the gruesome sight.

The poor secretary must have asked for him to pay. She was suspended from the ceiling fan that was on. Her head was lodged between two blades of the fan and her body was frantically spinning, splattering blood at random people. A stapler was shoved through her stomach as well.

"Sorry, I'm back again. I forgot my…underwear." It was Sheila. She screamed and ran out.

"Underwear, huh?" said Snape, thinking outloud.

"Wonder where it is," said Lucius, rubbing his chin.

"Underwear?" screamed Voldemort excitedly from down the hall.

To be continued. . .

**

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CrazyDreamerGirl: **Insanity plays a big part in life, and in this story. So, if you don't want a crazy person attacking you, I suggest reviewing. Thank you! Oh, and I messed up with the title in the last chapter. Don't bother telling me, and I refuse to fix it on the grounds that I am too lazy! REVIEW!


	4. I Know Someone Who Knows Someone Who

**Voldemort and the Muggle Careers**

**Chapter 3: I Know Someone Who Knows Someone Who…**

Snape and Lucius grudgingly walked to Voldemort's lair. Lucius' son was leaning against the doorway, kicking stones away. He scowled at the cracks on the wall. By the time the two grown Death Eaters reached the doorway that lead inside, they were panting heavily. Snape leaned on Lucius' shoulder.

"Get off!" Lucius said weakly, shoving Snape off him.

Draco kept scowling at the wall. Thoughts of what happened earlier replayed through his mind. It was very disturbing.

_Draco knocked on the door. He heard a raspy voice telling him to go away._

"_But you called for me, sir," replied Draco._

"_Oh, that's right. Come in."_

_Voldemort had called for him. He had very urgent matters to discuss with him. He leaned back in his red armchair that looked suspiciously like a throne. He took a tissue, and rubbed an emerald until he could see himself. _

_Draco walked in, bowed, and stayed in that position. _

"_Stand," commanded Voldemort._

_Draco obeyed. "What did you need to speak to me for?"_

_Voldemort stood up, black robes swishing behind him. **That's Snape's trademark. I wonder if he knows about that, **thought Draco._

"_I've been feeling very lonely and useless," admitted Voldemort._

_Draco's eyes widened, making him look like Trelawny. "What do you mean?"_

"_Nothing I do is working. I have yet to conquer the muggles."  
_

"_Why don't you just blast them into oblivion and get it over with," mumbled Draco._

"_What did you say?" asked Voldemort innocently. _

_**Is it even possible for him to be innocent? **thought Draco. "Nothing."_

_Voldemort plopped back down on his throne-like chair. He buried his face in his hands. "Come, sit next to me." With a swish of his wand, a chair appeared out of nowhere next to him. _

_Draco sat down nervously. _

"_I don't know what to do next," said Voldemort._

"_Well, if I may suggest something," began Draco. Voldemort motioned for him to continue. "I know someone who knows someone who knows this guy that smuggles illegal creatures who knows this witch who knows this nice muggle family that needs a babysitter for tonight."_

_  
Voldemort blinked. It took him awhile to soak in all that information. "So, are you telling me that I should baby sit?"_

_Draco nodded. _

_Voldemort rubbed his chin in deep thought. He stood up. He looked down. His left arm twitched and he fell to his knees. Draco pushed himself back. Voldemort was frantically searching for something. He stood up with a triumphant grin. _

"_I have found my lucky coin!"_

_Draco looked away. He could not let the Dark Lord see him laughing._

"_With this coin, I shall decide whether or not to take that job."_

"_How are you planning on doing that?" asked Draco._

"_Well, baby sit is heads, and not baby sitting is tails."_

"_Oh."_

_Voldemort flipped the coin. It seemed to fall in slow motion. Finally it landed. It twirled for a few seconds and fell on its ridges. There was no choice. Draco stomped his foot really hard. It wobbled, but stayed like that. Voldemort looked at the coin with utter disgust. He cast a melting charm on it. It was now a puddle of gold. _

_Voldemort narrowed his eyes. "If you squint your eyes, it looks like heads…I'll take the job! Call Lucius and Snape!" _

And so, Draco did call them, and was waiting for the two out of shape Death Eaters to control their breathing.

"So," began Snape, "what does Voldemort need us for this time?"

"You'll find out soon enough." Draco walked inside. They followed him.

Lucius muttered something to Snape. "Hasn't seen his father in Merlin knows when, and ignores me like I'm some filthy mudblood…I'm so proud of him."

Snape rolled his eyes.

They stopped in front of a very large door. The two grown men looked up in awe.

"Voldemort's private chambers," said Lucius.

"Did you hear about what happened to Bellatrix when she went in there?" asked Snape.

"Yeah, it was around the Ministry of Magic incident. Those were some Cruciatus Curses," replied Lucius.

"Yeah, no one goes in there without having an Unforgivable Curse used on them," said Snape.

Draco snorted. He went in there, and there was no evil curses used on him. That just showed that he was Voldemort's favorite.

"You go first," said Lucius, shoving Snape forward.

"No, you go!"

"You!"

"You!"

"You!"

"You!"

Draco began tapping his foot in frustration. He opened the very large doors and walked in.

"No, Draco, it's not your time!" yelled Lucius on his knees. "You haven't found a decent pure blooded witch yet!"

Draco ignored him. He sighed heavily. Ever since he slipped out the fact that he was a Death Eater, Hermione dumped him and moved on to Ron. It was a very emotional five minutes. He got over it and went over to the Three Broomsticks and picked up a couple of random witches.

Back to the story, Snape and Lucius gathered up all the courage they had and went in after Draco. He was too young to see the horrors of Voldemort's private chambers.

They shielded their eyes, and bumped right into Draco.

"Enough of this foolish!" commanded Voldemort.

They stood in a straight line, like in the military. They bowed.

They watched Voldemort pace. Behind the greatest Dark Lord were the horrors of his private chambers. A big, canopy bed was in the corner. Nagini was draped over the bed, slithering. It looked like it trapped a mouse on the bed. The walls were painted in various shades of green and silver. He had a very large bookcase that was practically empty, except for a few books. A muggle contraption was also there. I t was colorful bird that would lean forward and dip its head in water. It was very annoying. He also had many mirrors and a strange gel on his dresser. It read: Scalp Shiner. At least he was concerned over his appearance. Also, many black robes were scattered around. Apparently, he had a hard time picking an outfit for today.

"I have that problem too," whispered Lucius to Snape.

"Nagini, how many times do I have to tell you? Do not eat Death Eaters unless I tell you to!" yelled Voldemort in parseltongue.

A rat came scurrying toward Voldemort. It transformed into Peter. "Thank you, Master!" He kissed the hem of his robes and ran out.

"Anyway, I have called you here for very important business. I have decided to another approach to this whole Muggle business."

"Really? Like what?" Lucius asked.

"I will…" he paused for dramatic tension, "…baby sit!"

Draco rolled his eyes. This was old news. But Snape and Lucius were in complete shock. Their mouths were wide open, gaping like a fish out of water.

Snape was the first to recover. "Do you know who you will baby sit?"

"Oh, yes, Draco has set it all up for me. Wish me luck," said Voldemort. "Oh, make sure you feed Nagini. She gets very irritable if she doesn't eat every two hours. And whatever you do, do not stay in the same room with her for very long. She likes to hug things."

He walked out. The three blinked and looked at each other. "So, what do we do now?" asked Draco.

"Get the hell out of here," said Snape calmly and ran out.

Father and son looked down. Nagini was beginning the hugging process. They gulped and ran out. They did not want to know how it felt like to be hugged by a 300 pound snake.

Unfortunately, they left the giant door open. Nagini slithered out looking for a very unsuspecting Death Eater that had a certain liking to being a rat. Human rats were her favorite.

* * *

Voldemort fixed his black robes. He sniffed his underarms. He cringed. "Perfect." 

He raised his white, bony hand and knocked. He repeatedly knocked in a tune that sounded oddly like the song "Bad Day." The door opened, but he didn't notice. He kept on knocking on a man's forehead.

"Sounds hollow," said Voldemort.

Someone cleared their throat. Voldemort smiled nervously and followed the man inside. He looked around the house. It was very spacious. As he looked around, he almost tripped on a fire truck. He caught himself before he fell and broke his nose. _Wait a second, I don't have a real nose, _he thought.

A woman came down the stairs. She was trying to put on her high heel shoes. "That's the babysitter!" she asked in shock. After all, seeing a pale, bald, slits for nose, red-eyed, black robed man in your living room didn't happen everyday.

The man gave her a disapproving look.

"Don't worry, I get this all the time," said Voldemort.

"Um, what is your name again?" she asked.

"Voldemort, You-Know-Who, He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named, or Tom."

"Right, follow us, Tom," said the man.

"Don't call me that," said Voldemort seriously.

"But you just said-never mind," the man replied.

He was led into the kitchen.

"Here is a list of all the emergency numbers, in case," the woman said.

"The fire department, the police department, my cell, their grandparents, Poison Control-well, you get the picture," the man said.

"You will be watching over our little angels." The woman began frantically looking around with a giant smile. It was as if she were being threatened by the children…no, that's dumb.

Voldemort found this very odd. If anyone should feel threatened, it should be because of him.

"Triplets," the mad elaborated. "Two boys, one girl; Peter, Michael, and Wendy."

"They're playing outside right now," the woman said, pushing her husband out the door. "Please _hesitate_ to call us!"

Voldemort blinked. "Right, how hard can a couple of kids be?"

He walked outside, under the light of the setting sun. His eye twitched. "I never liked sun light."

He saw a kiddy pool in the middle of the yard. The colors were blinding; pink, green, blue, yellow, red. He rubbed his eyes. Three children were splashing around. A giant wave of water hit Voldemort. He glared at them. The kids huddle near each other under the Dark Lord's shadow. He looked very menacing, but the idea of the boogeyman finally coming after them was banished from their minds as soon as Voldemort spoke.

"There are three of you?"

The girl was the first to recover. "Yeah, stupid, didn't our parents tell you that?"

Voldemort picked up Wendy from her ponytail. He brought her close to his face. "Address me by my proper name, Lord Voldemort, your baby sitter, and I am not stupid. In fact, I am a very brilliant, evil overlord."

Wendy gagged. "What did you eat? It smells like you ate a dead person!"

"Thank you." He dropped Wendy on Peter, or was it Michael? He couldn't tell.

They scrambled out of the pool. Peter, or Michael, whistled. Voldemort turned around. His eyes widened. A giant, black dog was snarling at him. It appeared out of nowhere. It had beady, red eyes. He screamed like a little girl. He turned to run, but it was too late. The dog jumped on his back, knocking face first into the pool.

The dog stayed on top of him. He flailed around, gurgling. "Can't swim!"

They motioned for the dog to come off him. He was still flailing around madly. It was odd. The pool wasn't even six inches deep, even with a full grown adult in it.

"I guess scary albino babysitters can't swim," said Peter, or Michael.

The other boy nodded.

Wendy clapped her hands together and smiled mischievously. "This is going to be good."

* * *

Voldemort sat on the sofa with a towel wrapped around him. He was still wearing his robes, thankfully. (We all had our fill of a naked Dark Lord in the Goblet of Fire movie.) He was trying to blow his nose, but couldn't. It was very difficult, especially since he had two slits in place of a nose. The water had gone up his snake-like nose, and it bothered him greatly. 

The children sat in front of him in a semi-circle. They stared at him. That also bothered him greatly. Abruptly, he stood up, scaring them. The towel fell on top of Peter, or Michael. He screamed, tossing it away.

"I'm so stupid," said Voldemort.

"I know you are," said Wendy.

Voldemort glowered. He pulled out his want and cast a drying charm on his robes. Then, he used another charm to rid his nose of the excess water. A trail of booger filled water came out, falling on top of Peter or Michael. (The same one that was unfortunate enough to touch his towel.) He screamed, running around in a circle.

No one spared him a passing glance.

"Let's play," said Voldemort sinisterly.

And so, the greatest, the most evil sorcerer in the world was going to play with three eight year olds with muggle toys.

What he saw next scarred him for life: Harry Potter action figures, posters, and plushies, the replicas of Hogwarts, the Quidditch field, the Forbidden Forest, Hogsmeade, the Ministry of Magic, and a place called number 12, Grimmauld Place, and action figures of Snape, Dumbledore, Filch, Lucius, Hagrid, Ron, Hermione, Peter, Peter in rat form Sirius, Sirius in dog form, Remus, werewolf Remus, James Potter, James in stag form, Lily Potter, the fat boy he sold ice cream to, his mother, a fat man that must be his father, a hippogriff, and Dobby. He blinked. No Voldemort merchandise whatsoever. No, he didn't care that a couple of muggles had all this merchandise about people he encountered in his life; he only cared that he was no where in site.

He growled. He raised his wand and cursed everything into oblivion, except for the Snape, Lucius, and Draco action figures. They were his favorite followers.

The triplets began to wail. He walked dramatically out, black robes swishing, but not before picking up those three action figures. He stomped down the stairs, muttering to himself. "How the hell do muggle children find out about magic, and not have at least one thing about me? Maybe they're wizards…no, that's stupid. Their parents would have screamed and ran away from me the moment they saw me. They had clearly not even heard of me. But-gah! This is making my head hurt!"

The phone rang. He picked it up, looking at it suspiciously.

"Hello." Voldemort didn't hear anything. He flipped it, and tried again. "Hello."

"Do you like my body?" the random person said over the phone. The voice was clearly female. She said that statement a lot like that blond person from the Trim Spa commercial. Voldemort couldn't recall her name.

"What? Who is this?" Voldemort plugged his other ear with his finger. Those kids had a nice set of lungs.

"Do you like my body?"

"You didn't answer my previous questions! I demand you tell me who you are, where you live, and a short, but accurate description of your appearance and hobbies so I may track you down on the grounds that I am an evil sorcerer!"

"Well…do you like it?"

"Do I like what? Cheese? I don't like two pieces of cheese."

"No, my body."

"What about it? Oh, right, you're asking if I like it."

"Yes."

"I have not seen your body. I cannot tell you if I like it if I have not seen it."

"You just suck the fun out of prank phone calls, you know that?"

She hung up. Voldemort looked at the phone and shrugged his shoulders. "What's her problem?" He put the phone down on the receiver.

Out of nowhere, he was tackled. "What? What's going on?"

Peter and Michael dragged him to a chair. Voldemort, not surprisingly, had no strength to even fight off a couple of children. Wendy began to circle him, giggling maniacally. It was after the first couple minutes that Voldemort realized she was wrapping him in something.

It was gray and sticky. "An elephant's trunk!" he exclaimed. "How dare you kill an elephant! They're endangered, I think. And, they are one of my favorite animals."

The three kids stared at him. It was Wendy who spoke up. "No, you idiot, it's duct tape!

"Oh…what's that?"

The triplets groaned.

Voldemort struggled to get free. He tried to reach for his wand, but couldn't.

"We also have your magic stick," said Peter, or Michael. He really couldn't tell them apart.

"We are going to play Indians. You are our captive, and we're going to sacrifice you to Mother Earth," explained Wendy, smiling evilly. The effect of the smile wasn't as good as she hoped because she was missing a couple teeth.

They began to put face paint on using lipstick. Voldemort watched on, horrified. They began circling him with bent backs. They seemed to be chanting. The Wendy girl stopped, causing the boys to bump into her. She glared.

She took out something that looked a lot like matches.

"Didn't your parents say not to play with fire?" asked Voldemort nervously. He might have to be reborn, again. He gulped.

She struck the match on the box. It didn't light. She tried repeatedly, but it didn't work. Voldemort opened his eyes to see why he wasn't burning. Peter, or Michael, grabbed it.

"Let me try," he said.

Wendy huffed. It reminded him of Bellatrix on her PMS.

Just when he got it lit, the doorbell rang.

"Thank Merlin! I'm saved! I mean, I'll get it," said Voldemort.

He had a hard time getting to the door strapped into the chair. Once there, he realized he couldn't open it in the condition he was in. He growled in frustration. The tape disappeared. Accidental magic was great. He turned to face the triplets. He stuck his tongue out. They cringed. His tongue was forked.

He opened the door. It was a Chinese man. He was holding a variety of products to sell. Voldemort groaned. He hated door-to-door salesmen. They came to his lair all the time. It was a chore calling Nagini to eat them.

He shut the door, but it didn't want to close. He repeatedly tried to slam the door shut, but couldn't. He looked down. The man had jabbed his foot there to stop him.

He faced the Oriental man. He was red in the face from pain.

"What do you want?" asked Voldemort.

A flurry of words flowed from his mouth, but didn't understand a word of it. It was like he was speaking in Pig Latin, but he was fluent in Pig Latin. Voldemort raised his brow, well, he would have if he had any. His head was spinning!

"Hold on a second," the Dark Lord said.

"Okay," the Chinese man said in perfect English. There was no accent at all.

Voldemort blinked. He turned around and pulled Wendy's ponytail until she gave him his wand. He returned to the salesman.

"It's been a pleasure talking to you, but your time has come," said Voldemort. "_Avada Kedavra_."

A flash of green light erupted from his wand, killing the man. He looked around, making sure no one saw. He levitated the man into the bushes. Whistling, he walked back.

The triplets screamed and ran upstairs. Voldemort shrugged his shoulders and sat down on the sofa.

The phone rang. He put it upside down again, but fixed it quickly.

"Hello," said Voldemort.

"I am an albino." The person was oddly familiar, but he couldn't place his finger on it.

"Really? Me too!" exclaimed Voldemort.

"That's nice," replied the person with uncertainty in her voice.

"I'm so glad I found another albino. I have so many questions to ask."

"Oookay."

"You see, I have this problem with the white hair on my back. It itches like hell. The healers I kidnapped didn't help at all. I was wondering if you had the same problem."

"Um, yeah."

Voldemort sighed deeply. "I'm so relieved. The skin back there was getting all diseased and disgusting. I was starting to think I had leprosy or something. Not that I can die though. I still have a few more horcruxes the Boy-Who-Is-No-Longer-Alive didn't find. Anyway, do your red eyes drive away people of the opposite sex?"

There was no answer. Instead, Voldemort heard a clicking noise.

"That was rude!"

He could still hear the triplet screaming. He went upstairs. He found them huddled in the remains in of their destroyed toys.

"Don't worry, I won't hurt you," said Voldemort.

They screamed. Voldemort seriously considered using a silencing charm, but thought better of it. He picked up a Harry Potter action figure with its head melted off. He transfigured it into a guitar. He strummed it, and opened his mouth to sing. The children gulped. Who knows what horrors would erupt from his mouth?

"I call this little medley 'The Albino Rap,'" said Voldemort, strumming his guitar.

He took a deep breath and began singing:

"_I am an Albino._

_Yeah, yeah, yeah_

_I got the red eyes;_

_I got the white skin._

_I don't know what else there is to an_

_Albino!_

_But I will find out 'cuz_

_I am an albino!"_

The children stared at Voldemort, and Voldemort stared at the children. The older, more albino wizard was waiting for some sort of response about his magnificent singing. The triplets' right eye twitched in unison.

"Now remember, this is a work in progress. I'm still tinkering around with it," said Voldemort.

More silence and staring.

"You're not speaking."

Wendy blinked. "Er, words can't describe that song."

"You are absolutely correct! It was so good that trying to even find a word to describe it is a crime. Speechlessness is the perfect response."

She nodded quickly in agreement. She elbowed her brothers. They nodded, too.

* * *

"Did you hear that awful screeching?" asked Lucius, rubbing his ear. They were hiding in the bushes. Not the one with the dead Chinese man. They stayed away from that one. 

"It sounded like an animal dying on the premises," said Snape still in shock.

"No, worse, it was Voldemort…rapping," said Draco dramatically.

Now let's take a look at the scenery behind them. A car had hit a fire hydrant, causing a geyser. It also started a four car pileup. Also, the animals in the neighborhood tried to commit suicide. The birds were rocking back and forth on tree branches. A few of them had tried to jump, and die, but it didn't go so well. A few cats had even gone to the extreme of trying to claw their ears out. The dogs were seen wandering around with their tails between their legs, whimpering.

The sounds of babies, and even teenagers, crying filled the air.

"We should have just stayed at the gentlemen's club," said Lucius.

"You mean the stripper place?" asked Draco.

"Shh, don't say that. Your mother hears all," whispered Lucius, and the louder he added, "He meant the slipper store! He needed slippers from the slipper store!"

Snape rolled his eyes. He was surrounded by idiots.

* * *

Voldemort led the children downstairs and into the kitchen. He clapped his hands together and smiled a cruel, twisted smile. "Dinner time." 

The triplets groaned. He turned around and began cooking. He threw in a variety of items into a blender. A gurgling noise could be heard over the loud whirring of the blender. Voldemort began cackling madly.

Peter, or Michael, whistled for their dog. It came running in, but one look at Voldemort sent it running right back out with its tail in between its legs, whining.

Then, the kids' worst nightmare came true. Voldemort finished cooking. He placed a large glass containing a strange liquid in front of each one. It was an army green color. It was very fizzy. A foul smell filled the air.

"I combined your drinks, dinner, and dessert into one convenient drink. It'll revolutionize the way we eat dinner," said Voldemort happily.

Their eyes darted from the 'drink,' the door, and Voldemort. Their chances were very good.

"Well, aren't you going to try?"

Their evil babysitter was holding his wand rather menacingly. They had no choice. It was either this, or end up like the Chinese man.

They lifted their glasses to their lips. They tipped it so the liquid would come forward enough to just touch their lips. As soon as it touched, the smell, the look, and the texture made them vomit uncontrollably.

It got everywhere. Vomit even managed to find its way to Voldemort's black robes, the one that took forever to find.

"My favorite robes!"

Wendy turned green again. She placed her hand on her mouth, but couldn't hold it in. She retched all over Voldemort.

"Why you little-" He was ready to put her in a strangle hold, until he was interrupted by the doorbell. "I'll be back."

He left the kitchen. Before opening the door, he cleaned himself up with a quick _skurge_.

At the door was the strangest person creature thing that Voldemort had ever seen. And Voldemort was one strange person creature thing himself. This thing, (Voldemort couldn't tell its gender), had a hunched back with tanned skin. It had a very large nose ring made of pure gold. It also had many deformities that made it look like a pretzel.

"What can I do for?" asked Voldemort, gripping his wan. Even he was afraid.

"You are having child problems, am I correct?"

Voldemort lowered his wand. "You read me like a book."

"I can help."

"How?"

"Let me come in, and you shall see for yourself." It walked in.

* * *

"What the bloody hell was that?" asked Draco. 

"A voodoo witch," replied Snape and Lucius.

"And how do you two know?"

"You don't want to know," said Snape, twitching.

"You'll be scarred for like," said Lucius.

Draco physically moved away from them into the neighboring bush.

* * *

Voldemort led the thing into the kitchen. The children took one look and screamed. 

"Which child has given you the most trouble?"

"Wendy," replied Voldemort without hesitation.

At this point, Wendy paled considerably, and hid behind her brothers, screaming bloody murder. The creature dragged Wendy to the counter. It mumbled a few incantations, and she became immobile. The creature drew strange markings on her face and around her on the counter.

Voldemort ushered the boys out and into the bathroom. "Take a bath. I'll be right back."

"What about Wendy?" Peter and Michael asked.

"She'll be fine."

By the time Voldemort came down the stairs, it was coming out of the kitchen, wiping its hand on its skirt.

"My job here is done."

"What did you do?"

"I'm a voodoo witch. People don't come back when I'm done with them."

Voldemort's eyes widened. He ran into the kitchen, but only to come back out. It was too gruesome for words.

The voodoo witch smiled. Voldemort killed it on the spot. He levitated the body into the bushes, on top of the Chinese man.

Someone screamed. "I know that scream anywhere…Lucius!"

"Yes, milord!" Lucius and the rest emerged from the bushes.

"Snape, Draco, Lucius, my faithful followers! Look, I have action figures for you!" exclaimed Voldemort.

"Thanks," they mumbled as they caught their appropriate action figure.

"They did a great job on my hair," remarked Lucius.

"Is my nose really that crooked?" asked Snape, examining the mini Snape figure.

"Yes!" they yelled.

"I haven't put my hair in that style since first year. It's ridiculous looking," said Draco.

"Look, I need your help," said Voldemort.

Lucius looked very smug. "I never thought I'd see the day that the great Lord Voldemort need help baby sitting."

"Lucius, I swear I will Avada you into hell, but you're lucky that I have a job for you." Lucius mumbled a quick sorry.

He led them inside. "Lucius, you are going to clean the kitchen. Beware; maybe a good _skurge _might not be strong enough."

Lucius gave a salute and went inside, only to come back out, screaming. Voldemort glared.

"I'm going to have nightmares for life," he said.

"If you manage to clean everything, I'll pay for the second honeymoon you and your wife have been wanting," conceded Voldemort.

"Anywhere?" asked Lucius.

Voldemort nodded.

"I'd like to point out that Snape and Draco are witnesses. There is no backing out."

"Get on with it."

"Okay, but all that blood and vomit and flesh will be hard to get out," replied Lucius.

"Just get in there and clean!"

"Fine," mumbled Lucius, walking back in. Loud whimpering could be heard, mixed with a strangled scream or two.

"Draco, I need you to help me with the boys' bath time, and Snape, I need you to make a potion."

"What kind of potion?" Snape asked suspiciously.

"I'll explain on the way up."

* * *

In the kitchen, Lucius' eyes were stinging from the smell and the gruesome sight. Any type of magic he tried wouldn't work. He had to clean everything the muggle way. "Why me?"

* * *

Peter and Michael had already finished their baths. 

"Where is Wendy?" Peter, or Michael, asked.

Voldemort stammered.

"She's going to take her bath now. You don't think a girl would take a bath in front of a bunch of guys," Draco lied.

Voldemort mouthed the words 'thank you' to Draco.

"Where should I make the potion?" whispered Snape.

"Bath tub," replied Voldemort.

"Right." Snape left.

The two remaining wizards led the boys into the bed and tucked them in. Draco made Voldemort fix all the toys he destroyed, even if he did have good reason.

"What about our bed time story?" one of the boys asked.

"Bed time story?" asked Voldemort.

Draco rolled his eyes. "I'll read, you fix."

The young Malfoy conjured a chair out of thin air. The boys clapped. He grabbed a book from their shelf, sat down, and began reading.

"_The Three Little Pigs,_" said Draco.

About halfway through the story, Voldemort came up to him, plucked the book from his hands, and threw it out the window.

"What the hell was that? It was crap! My ears were burning!" complained Voldemort.

"Watch your language," admonished Draco.

"Look who's talking."

The Dark Lord rolled his eyes at the look Draco was giving him. "Let me tell you a real story." He pushed Draco off the chair and sat down.

"This is the tale of my very first raid…"

At the end of the story, the boys' eyes, and Draco's, were widened in fear and shock. Peter and Michael clung to each other, fearing for the lives. Draco was still in shock. Fear was evident in his eyes.

"Well, good night," said Voldemort. He turned the lights off and shut the door. He came back in to drag the fainted Draco out. "Sorry," he told the boys.

Voldemort bumped into Snape.

"Sorry-why are you dragging young Mr. Malfoy from his foot," asked Snape.

"He fainted from my bed time story, but that's not important. Did you finish the potion?"

"Yeah, I just need the girl's DNA."

They looked at each other and ran downstairs with Draco trailing behind them, his head hitting every step. They burst into the kitchen. Lucius had already cleaned most of the kitchen.

"Why the hell did you clean the place?" yelled Voldemort.

"You told me to," defended Lucius. "Why is my son unconscious?"

"That's not important," said Voldemort.

"Bed time story gone wrong," explained Snape.

Voldemort grabbed the sponge Lucius was holding and threw it to Snape. It landed on his hair.

"Great, your greasy hair better not ruin the girl's DNA," said Voldemort.

Snape sneered. He squeezed the sponge. Red drops of soapy blood fell into the vial. He corked it shut and shook. He opened it and poured the contents onto the floor.

"I just cleaned that floor!" said Lucius.

"You're just going to have to clean it again," said Snape.

The puddle bubbled. It began morphing into a human form. Features began forming; hair, facial features, fingers, toes. Then clothes formed. They watched on until it was all over.

"The house looks immaculate!" exclaimed the mother.

"Yes, lets' just check on our children and then we'll pay you," said the father.

Voldemort nervously followed them. He waited outside the room.

"They look fine, but why is Wendy's hair so greasy?" asked the mother.

Voldemort nervously looked around. "Well, I told her to take a bath after playing outside, but she didn't. She even put mud in her hair to spite me, but I just told her that she can stay like for her parents to see."

"Sounds like her, but why is her nose so crooked?" asked the father.

Voldemort shrugged his shoulders. They paid him very generously. He quickly left before they changed their minds. It was the first time he had been paid for a job not so well done.

He ran back inside with Snape and Lucius following. They carried an unconscious Draco through the night.

* * *

A few days later, Voldemort and all his Death Eaters were surrounded in front of the television. 

"It's just the news. Change the channel," said Bellatrix.

"No wait," said Draco.

"…and this was the scene last night when police arrested Mr. and Mrs. Farley for the murder of two innocent people. They were found in their bushes. One was a Chinese door-to-door salesman, and the other was…well, the police can't identify if this person is even human. The cause of death is still a mystery," said the newscaster.

The scene changed to the triplets. Peter and Michael had dark circles under their eyes from lack of sleep, most likely from nightmares caused by a certain story. Wendy was sneering at everything that moved. Her hair was so greasy that it shined. Her crooked nose was about half the size of her face.

Everyone turned to face Snape.

"What?" asked Snape, hands raised in defense.

Just then, Nagini slithered into the room.

"That reminds me, has anyone seen Wormtail?" asked Voldemort.

There was a strangled noise coming from Nagini. They noticed a giant lump that looked peculiarly like a man.

All the evil wizards, and one witch, looked at each other with expressions mixed with fear, shock, and constipation in Lucius' case.

**

* * *

CrazyDreamerGirl: **Phew, this chapter was 18 pages long! You have no idea how much my fingers hurt after this. I also want to thank my friend for coming up with the Albino Rap! Oh, if anyone can figure out where I got the names for the triplets, I'll tell them Voldemort's next occupation. It'll only work if you are logged in because I'd rather not have many people know my e-mail address. Please review!


	5. There Are No Werewolves Here

**Disclaimer: **I do not own John Travolta or the song Bad Day. I do however, own this sick and twisted version of Voldemort.

**Voldemort and the Muggle Careers**

**Chapter 4: There Are No Werewolves Here**

After Voldemort botched up another job, they decided to lay low for awhile. Snape couldn't walk out in the muggle world without anyone thinking he was that Wendy girl's relative, or her real father; since, they believed, that Mrs. Farley had an affair and they were secretly in love, and Wendy was their love child. Snape was constantly proving the rumors false; he said that if they did have an affair, why didn't the other two look like Wendy? They were supposed to be identical triplets after all.

Many people were constantly tell the police that a certain albino man in black robes with red eyes and a nose that were two slits was the real culprit. These people were quickly silenced by ways only known to Voldemort.

One day, Voldemort was strolling through the town, brain storming for another job. Who knew he would go through so many? Anyway, he entered a nice neighborhood. He stopped in front of one. A man came out of the house wearing a blue pinstripe suit. He was carrying a sign under his arm. He placed it firmly into the lawn.

"For sale," Voldemort read.

And those two words sealed his fate . . . and Voldemort's.

* * *

Voldemort burst into the Death Eaters' lair with a giant grin. He was not wearing his usual black robes anymore. Instead, he wore a blue pinstripe suit with a navy colored tie. His shoes were black. It was shined so much that a person could easily use it in place of a mirror.

A few of his followers were busy watching television. Bellatrix was reading a very interesting book entitled _So Your Boss is an Albino_. He shook his head. When would they learn that reading rots your mind? Television is much more education. Oh, well, he would speak to her later. Snape was in the corner making a potion. _I hope it's a special shampoo for his oily hair. Merlin knows he needs it. I should make a few more rules here, like self hygiene, _thought Voldemort.

He looked around. Lucius was missing. _Oh, that's right. They're having their second honeymoon in Transylvania. _

Draco was playing Wizard's Chess by himself…and he was losing. Pathetic. It was a very boring day in the lair today.

Voldemort cleared his throat. No one looked at him. He growled in frustration. He cleared his throat louder this time. Still he was ignored. He coughed. No one cared. This time, he faked a whooping cough.

"You really should see a healer about that cough," said Bellatrix, not taking her eyes away from her book.

Everyone else mumbled an agreement.

"It wouldn't look good if the wizard that killed Harry Potter died of a cough," said Draco. He moved his knight, killing a pawn.

"Idiots," murmured Voldemort.

He blocked the television from the view of Rodolphus, who was Bellatrix's husband, Peter, which took forever to make Nagini vomit him out, Macnair, and Avery. They groaned. All they could see was Voldemort from the waist down. He was wearing blue. Odd…but they did not question it. He was an evil wizard that would not hesitate to kill a kitty after all.

"D-do you m-mind moving, master," squeaked Peter.

"Yes, I do mind," said Voldemort.

"But we're finally going to find out if Aurora is really pregnant with her and Darien's love child," complained Rodolphus.

"Please don't say 'love child' near me," grumbled Snape.

"Yeah, and her husband Alistair is walking towards them at this very moment. If he finds out that she's been unfaithful, he'll surely kill Darien in a blind furry," elaborated Macnair.

"He'll end in Azkaban for this, unless he manages to bribe the Minister, but he's just a poor wizard impersonating a muggle blacksmith," said Avery.

Voldemort rolled his eyes. "What have I told you about watching wizard soap operas?"

"Make sure it's on bootleg cable?" said Rodolphus with uncertainty.

"No-I mean yes, but not that one," said Voldemort.

"Um, call you to watch with us?" suggested Peter.

"Yes, I'm glad someone remembered!" exclaimed Voldemort. He squeezed in between Peter and Macnair. Still they refused to look him in the eye. Usually he kicked them out, but he seemed to be in a very cheerful mood.

They watched "Oh, My Love Child" very intently. Snape banged his head against the wall. They said 'love child' in almost every sentence. Finally, the soap opera was over. In one hour, they managed to post pone the results of the pregnancy test until next week's episode. The most annoying part was the commercial breaks were every five minutes, and they lasted for about seven minutes.

Voldemort stood up. "This awful commercials and ads will be eliminated once I takeover this show! How can they not tell me what happens?!"

Draco finally looked up to see Voldemort. "Why are you wearing that ridiculous-Ah, who are you and what have you done with our leader?!"

"It's me, Lord Voldemort."

"Prove it," said Bellatrix, wand pointed at his throat.

"Bellatrix put that wand down or I will Crucio you to the brink of insanity. Do you want to end up like the Longbottoms?" snarled Voldemort.

Bellatrix gulped. She lowered her wand slightly. 'Voldemort' looked very different. He had brown hair and blue eyes. He had an actual nose, and his skin tone was normal. Snape stood up and circled him.

"Will you stop that? You're making me dizzy," complained 'Voldemort.'

"If you are really Voldemort, then you don't mind answering a question only the real Voldemort knows," said Snape.

"Oh, just get the truth potion!" exclaimed Rodolphus.

"I'm not answering anything under veritaserum," retorted 'Voldemort.' "Remember what happened last time?"

They had decided to play truth or dare one night during their top secret Death Eater meetings. Everyone who picked truth was forced to drink the truth potion before answering. Needless to say, Voldemort accidentally spilled his darkest, most humiliating secret.

Everyone snickered at the memory. Voldemort glared at them.

"What was your darkest, most humiliating secret?" asked Draco.

"You know very well what it is. It was your question," said Voldemort.

"Refresh our memories," said Snape.

Voldemort glowered. He did not like this at all, but if this is what it took for them to believe him, then so be it.

"CRUCIO! CRUCIO! CRUCIO! CRUCIO! CRUCIO! CRUCIO! CRUCIO!" yelled Voldemort at the top of his lungs.

Everyone fell to the ground, writhing in agony. They screamed out in pain. Voldemort stopped the curse before it did too much harm to their already damaged minds. Draco raised his hand and said, "That's definitely Voldemort."

Everyone stood up and dusted their robes, freeing themselves of the dust bunnies that had collected on the floor.

"So, why are you wearing that?" asked Draco.

"I'm glad someone noticed it," said Voldemort.

"We noticed it," whispered Rodolphus to Peter, Macnair, and Avery.

Voldemort glared at them.

"It has to do with my new career."

Snape and Draco froze. The others were in the dark about this little past time of the dark lord.

"What does he mean by career?" asked Avery.

"I thought he was dark lord. Isn't that an occupation?" asked Rodolphus.

"Snape, Draco, I want you to fill them in on my new plan."

"What is your next job?" asked Snape reluctantly.

"Real estate agent," said Voldemort wickedly.

"That still doesn't explain why you look so different," said Draco.

"Well, muggles won't be comfortable around someone who looks like me, so I kidnapped an actual real estate agent and used his hair for Polyjuice Potion. Oh, and one of you might want to retrieve him from the dungeons. I don't think he likes it there," replied Voldemort.

"License?" asked Snape.

"Stole it from that man in the dungeons."

"Oh."

* * *

Voldemort stood outside the house he was supposed to sell. He was looking in a mirror provided by Snape, who was also holding it. The mirror was even taller than Snape. Voldemort fixed his tie and his suit. Draco was waiting for Snape across the street. He had insisted that he would rather not be seen near them.

Snape staggered a bit from the weight of the mirror. Draco was rolling in laughter at the look on Snape's face. He was getting all red, beads of sweat rolled down his face, and his cheeks were all puffed out. He was like a blow fish, much like Mrs. Puff from Spongebob.

Eventually, he sent Snape away. The potions master joined Draco across the street. They hid in a bush, which they had been doing quite often recently.

* * *

_Bellatrix, Rodolphus, Peter, Avery, and Macnair were in shock. Their eyes became bug eyed and their mouths were wide open. In fact, a fly flew in and out of Peter's mouth several times. _

_They had just been told of Voldemort's plan. _

_Rodolphus was the first to speak. "I think that's bloody brilliant!"_

_Bellatrix glared at her husband. "I married an idiot," she mumbled._

"_Anyway, we can't let him know what we really think about," said Draco._

"_Exactly, we have to support him in everything he does; give him encouragement and a helping hand every once in awhile," said Snape._

"_Like a parent?" Avery asked in disgust._

"_Yes, like a parent," said Snape, sighing._

"_But that's so-" Avery couldn't find the right to describe it._

"_Un-death eater-ish," finished Peter._

"_So is acting like a muggle instead of just ripping apart their limbs slowly and painfully," muttered Draco._

* * *

Voldemort smiled eagerly as someone opened the front gate and walked towards him. The man stepped back. Something was weird about this real estate agent. An evil aura seemed to emit from him. The man shook it off and continued walking. He needed a new house, badly. They last one was destroyed in a strange fire. It was blue…and there was a strange mark above his house. It was a skull with a snake coming out of its mouth. Very odd.

Anyway, Voldemort refused to shake hands with the man. He looked odd. He was wearing an outfit that looked very similar to what one would wear in the 1700s.

The man stared Voldemort right in the eye. Voldemort was a little unnerved by the man's intense stare.

The man took a deep breath and opened his mouth. "The British are coming! The British are coming!"

"What are you talking about? I'm British. I'm already here."

"Sorry, I was rehearsing for my play tonight. I am Paul Revere."

"Okay, Paul, let's get on with this tour," said Voldemort.

"No, I'm playing Paul Revere. My real name is Kenji."

"That's Japanese." Voldemort paused before continuing. "You don't look Japanese. You have an English accent!"

"My parents liked Japan a lot. They also loved anime…anyway; let's get on with this tour."

Voldemort blinked. "Right." He opened the door for Kenji. _I must remember to ask Snape what this 'anime' is, _he thought.

Kenji walked in. Voldemort followed. The English man with the Japanese name looked around. He faced a spiraling stairwell. Several more hallways and doors led to other rooms. Voldemort motioned for Kenji to follow, malevolently. Kenji laughed nervously.

He led him through a random red door that Kenji was sure was never there before. They were in the kitchen. Voldemort walked towards the refrigerator.

"As you can see, the furniture is included with the house, along with a fully stocked fridge," he said, while opening it.

Kenji gasped. He turned as white as a sheet of paper.

"What's wrong?" asked Voldemort. He couldn't have a potential buyer faint before paying.

Kenji began babbling. With a shaky hand, he pointed to the fridge. Voldemort looked down.

"Oh, you mean that? That's nothing. Didn't you know that a brutal murder had been committed in this house when the husband found out that his wife was cheating on his best friend? He killed her, his friend, and his one year old child. Apparently, he was going to eat them for dinner. I do hope we're not intruding. Who knows what a murderous raving lunatic could do?" asked Voldemort, shrugging.

The evil wizard kicked the corpses on the floor that had been cut up to fit in the refrigerator.

He stood next to Kenji. He patted him on the shoulder. "Come, we have much more to see."

He led Kenji through another door that had magically appeared. This one was blue, the manly color. Kenji followed Voldemort through the mysteriously long hallway. They had been walking for five minutes, and there was still no end in sight, or at least another door.

Kenji turned around to see how far they had been walking. The bright blue door was only a foot away from them.

"Um, excuse me Mr. Real Estate Agent, but we've been walking for over five minutes. Why aren't we any farther away from this door?"

Voldemort pondered that thought for a moment. He opened his mouth to say something, but closed it again. "I think we took a wrong turn somewhere."

"How could we have taken a wrong turn when we've been walking in a straight line?"

"Don't question it! I'm always right," said Voldemort.

They opened the blue door, but instead of going into the kitchen again, they were in the dining room.

Kenji fought back the urge to run screaming from the house.

"This is the dining room. As you can see, the table is made from cherry wood, along with matching chairs and china cabinet." Voldemort said this like it was something as great as his defeat of the Boy-Who-Is-No-Longer-Alive. The evil wizard continued, "The hardwood flooring has been kept in perfect condition. A beautiful, hand woven rug is spread over it."

Now, the rug and the floor weren't in the best condition. Kenji suppressed the urge to vomit. Blotches of blood covered the ground. He swore he saw an eyeball in the china cabinet staring back at him wherever he went.

Kenji backed slowly away. He hit the door. He looked at it. It was yellow now. He didn't care. He was too freaked out. He opened the door with more than enough force necessary and ran. He was in bedroom. It was empty, and looked perfectly normal. He sighed in relief. Voldemort appeared out of thin air on the bed.

"This bedroom was designed by a very famous French designer. It was made especially for newlywed couples," said Voldemort.

Kenji back away again. He found a wooden door this time. He opened it. It was the closet. He screamed.

"Can't a guy get any rest around here?" asked a very irritated man. He was pale with sharp fangs. Blood was dripping from the sides of his mouth. He emerged from the closet, but closer inspection revealed that he was really in a coffin in the closet.

Kenji ran, screaming. After trying about six more doors, he found the one that led to the stairwell, where the exit was. Before he left, an odd man shuffled into the room. He was wearing an old bathrobe drenched in blood. He was twitching, and wringing his hands.

"Hehehehehe, I killed her- my beautiful wife. Oh, how beautiful she was. And trustworthy….but no! I saw her. I saw her. Oh, Kenji, how could you do that? She was mine. My boy….he wasn't mine either. He belonged to that filthy Kenji…"

"Do you know me?" asked Kenji cautiously.

"Kenji…Kenji…Kenji…"

"Yes."

He suddenly looked up with bloodlust in his eye. (He only had one eye.) He pulled out a knife from inside his robe. He sauntered slowly towards Kenji.

Kenji opened the door and ran. He didn't stop screaming until he reached the airport, bought a plane ticket, and left the country. Screw his play. There were way too many psychos in England.

"Oh, hello, Bob," said Voldemort.

Bob looked at Voldemort with his empty eye socket.

"I think I know where your eye is," said Voldemort. "Follow me. By the way, are you interested in buying this magnificent house? It has its own vampire…"

* * *

After the murderous raving lunatic, and the vampire, drove Voldemort away from the house, the dark wizard dejectedly walked to the other side of the street. He faced a bush and sighed heavily.

"I have yet to sell a house," he said.

The bush rustled. Voldemort stared at it.

"Draco, Severus, I know you two are in there. Come out."

"Actually, we're in this bush," said Draco as he and Snape crawled out of the neighboring bush. They began picking the leaves and twigs out of their hair.

"If you're in there, then who's in there?" asked Voldemort, dumbstruck.

Snape shrugged. Draco had a blank expression on his face.

The bush rustled again. Voldemort crouched down. He slowly moved his hand toward it. Something jumped out. It was a squirrel. It stared at him with its head cocked. The dark wizard also did the same. The squirrel wrinkled its nose. It's black, beady eyes seemed to pierce into Voldemort's soul, well, one seventh of a soul to be exact. Just then, Voldemort's facial features began to morph. The Polyjuice Potion was beginning to wear off.

The squirrel stared at him a mixture of curiosity and fear. Slowly, the face that everyone knows associates with Voldemort came back. The small, furry animal seemed to gulp. It ran back into the bush, quivering. Voldemort stood up.

"Well, that was odd," he said.

The trip back to Voldemort's lair was a long and unpleasant one. Snape and Draco offered no words of comfort that one would expect from a close friend. They were too busy trying to stifle their laughter, but it's not like Voldemort could hear it. He was humming loudly. It wasn't a random melody. No, it had a familiar tune, and it was oddly appropriate for the situation. It was "Bad Day" sung by Daniel Powter. Eventually, both Draco and Snape grew irritated. It was out of tune, but the song was discernable.

Voldemort continued humming, and even sang the refrain, until they reached the foot of his castle. It had very pointy towers and the dark clouds looming above made it dark and foreboding. Draco blinked in confusion. They had to pass through a forest before reaching the castle. The forest was full of cute, fuzzy animals with a cloudless sky overhead. The castle wasn't that far from the forest, and yet, it was dark and sinister looking.

They climbed the impossibly long stairs that led to the ten foot high door. It opened automatically for Voldemort.

He stormed into the specially designated room in his castle called 'The Lair.' His death eaters looked up just in time to see him plop down on the sofa. He conjured up a pint of rocky road ice cream and began eating.

"What happened?" Bellatrix asked Snape.

"He didn't sell the house," he whispered back.

"Oh"

"Milord, Milord!" called Rodolphus.

"What?"

"I think this'll brighten your spirits," he replied as he handed him a newspaper.

Voldemort read the ad with a smile slowly forming on his lips. He had one more chance to prove that he could be a great real estate agent.

* * *

Voldemort stood at the corner of a muggle street in a neighborhood. It was a foggy night. The moon overhead was the only source of light. The street lamp had flickered out a few minutes ago. Voldemort was wearing a long, beige drench coat with a black bowler hat. Although he took more Polyjuice potion, he wanted to be careful. He looked down the street and saw a couple walking toward him.

As the neared him, he saw that they were very young. They seemed to be in their late twenties. The woman had blonde, curly hair with green eyes. The man had disheveled brown hair.

"Ah, you must be Mr. and Mrs. Pryce," greeted Voldemort.

"Yes we are, but you can call me Muffy, and this is my husband Daffy."

"Right and you can call me Mr. Real Estate Agent."

They stared at him with an odd look. "Okay," replied Daffy.

Voldemort took out his wand from the coat pocket. The Pryce couple eyed him warily.

"Is that a wand?" asked Muffy.

"Oh, this old thing," said Voldemort, pausing to think of a lie. "It's my lucky charm. Hey, is that John Travolta?" He pointed to a completely random direction. Being the gullible people that the Pryces are, they looked in that direction.

Voldemort put out his wand arm and waved. There was a sudden woosh of air and a double Decker bus stood in front of Voldemort.

They turned back. Muffy mumbled, "Darn, and I really wanted to meet him. We must have just missed him."

"Hey, when did that bus get here?" asked Daffy.

"We're going to use this bus to get to that wonderful country home you wanted," said Voldemort, completely ignoring his question.

A conductor in a purple uniform leapt out of the bus and began speaking loudly.

"Welcome to the Knight Bus, emergency transport for the stranded witch or wizard-"

"Witch or wizard?" asked Muffy.

The man looked at them with a very curiously. He opened his mouth to say something. Voldemort quickly interrupted. "It's theme night. Every Friday they have a theme. Last week it was medieval."

"Oh, that sounds fun. We should always ride this bus on Fridays, dear. What do you think?" asked Daffy.

"That would be very delightful," replied Muffy.

The conductor moved to the side so they young couple could climb on. Voldemort followed, but the conductor blocked him.

"Who are you?"

"Lord Voldemort, and if you don't get out of my way this instant, you'll be seeing your damned ancestors very soon."

He laughed nervously, and let him through.

Muffy and Daffy were awed by the interior decoration. There no seats. In their places were several beds. Some people had already called it a night and were snoring very loudly. A large chandelier was suspended from the ceiling. The couple cleverly chose a bed that was not under it. They sat down.

"So, how much will it be to take us to Hogsmeade?" asked Voldemort.

"Nothing," the conductor said, quickly. "You can ride for free."

"Are you sure? I mean, I've got a vault full of gold. A few gold galleons used here and there will make no dent in my account."

"You are a celebrity. Celebrities ride for free."

"Really? I didn't know I was a celebrity. Wow, people look up to me…" Voldemort trailed off as he sat down.

Now, since Daffy and Muffy are Muggles, they have no idea how the Knight Bus is driven, and they are in for quite the surprise.

It was as if an earthquake had started, and that was what was driving the bus. They were tossed back and forth from the walls and the beds. There were no seatbelts, and they didn't have a chance to grip onto something. Voldemort was sitting on his bed, reading a newspaper he found on the floor. It was today's edition. There was nothing new, just the usual pandemonium. His legs were crossed, and he didn't bother holding onto to something idea. It was like the bed was glued to him.

"Ooh, my horoscope!" he exclaimed. "Hmm, it says that Capricorn will experience many disappointments and feel useless for the next few months. Their luck will change once Pluto comes into view without the aid of a telescope." Voldemort paused. "'Pluto coming into view without the aid of a telescope will not happen for a couple centuries, or ever…'" He burned the newspaper, and the screams from the moving pictures could be heard as mere squeaks.

Daffy and Muffy looked at him. He laughed nervously. Instead of answering their questioning looks, he said, "Look, we're here!"

The conductor opened the door for them. Daffy and Muffy shoved Voldemort out of the way to reach the nearest bush. Sounds of retching filled the night air. Voldemort whistled a merry tune while he waited.

After a while, Voldemort began leading them into a quant little town called Hogsmeade. It was a dark, cloudy night. The moon was hidden from view. The wind picked up. The signs above the doors swayed, making a squeaky noise. Dust swirled around their feet. It seemed like a scene from a horror movie.

Voldemort led them out of the town and into the woods. They trekked through all the wonders of the forest, but no creatures were stirring, which struck Voldemort as very odd. On the other hand, Muffy and Daffy were excited to have a small village and a forest near the potential house they might buy.

A large shack like building stood in front of them. The architecture seemed shabby, but well built if it survived for so long. It was surrounded by a fence.

"Oh, I can make this into a beautiful garden," exclaimed Muffy.

At the moment, a light blanket of snow covered the ground. A chill wind whipped by. Voldemort looked up. The clouds were parting, revealing a full moon.

"Crap," said the dark wizard.

"What did you say?" asked Daffy.

"Nothing…anyway, this place is nicknamed the Shrieking Shack by the inhabitants of the village," explained Voldemort.

"Why?" asked Muffy.

"They claim that it's haunted, but it is all nonsense."

Daffy's eyes squinted as he looked towards the horizon.

"Is that a castle?" he asked.

"Why, yes it is. It's been abandoned for years. It's forbidden to enter, but it can make into an excellent tourist attraction, especially with such a nice village along the way. You could conduct a tour and say it's haunted," suggested Voldemort.

"That's a brilliant idea, Daffy. We'll just need to fix up the Shrieking Shack a bit, and business will boom," said Muffy happily.

"Oh, Muffy, that sounds wonderful!" said Daffy.

They embraced. Voldemort turned around, making a gagging sound.

"You okay?" asked Muffy.

"Yeah."

Suddenly, they heard clawing from coming inside of the shack. Then, ferocious growling pierced the night air. Voldemort backed away.

"What was that?" asked Daffy, cowering behind his wife.

"A rabid dog?" suggested Voldemort, and then added to himself, "I hope."

They slowly backed away. The doors were thrown open. A strange creature walked out that was taller than any man. It had wolf and human like characteristics. Saliva spilled out of its mouth. It tilted its head back and howled. They looked up to see the full moon.

"Is that a...werewolf?" gulped Daffy.

"Werewolf? What are you talking about? They don't exist. There are no werewolves here," said Voldemort nervously.

He and Daffy began bickering about the existence of werewolves. They didn't notice that a certain blond was walking towards the creature with her hand extended.

"It's okay. Are those icky people being mean to you?"

It whined and bowed its head. Muffy patted its head and scratched the back of its ears. It seemed to really enjoy it.

"Now, be a good doggy and don't bother anyone, okay?"

The werewolf nodded.

Voldemort and Daffy were left with their mouths open. Muffy walked back towards them.

"Such a nice dog," she said. "Can we keep it?"

"Um, Muffy, do you have a job at the moment?" asked Voldemort.

She shook her head. "Why?"

"Would you be interested in becoming a tamer for an organization called the Death Eaters?"

"What does this organization do?"

"Wreak havoc on society, what else?"

"No thank you."

"Oh, let's go then."

Needless to say, the Pryces did not buy the Shrieking Shack…

* * *

Voldemort sat on the steps of the last possible house he could sell. He did very poorly on his last two jobs. He requested that none of his followers come along, in case he failed, again.

A nice man was supposed to meet him about buying this quaint house behind him. It seemed perfectly normal. He saw a car pull up in the drive way next door. A very fat man came out, followed by his wife, who had the face of a horse. Lastly, a very fat boy/whale exited the car. Wait a second; he recognized the boy/whale. He sold him ice cream when he was an ice cream man. He waved. They ignored him.

"I'm gonna kill them in their sleep," he muttered.

The man he was waiting for walked up to him. He was in his late forties with thinning hair. He wore glasses and a suit.

"I'm John Johnson," he said, extending his hand.

"I'm Lord Voldemort. I prefer Mr. Real Estate Agent, though," said Voldemort.

"Riiight."

Voldemort gave him a full tour of the house. It was absolutely perfect. No vampires in the closets. No werewolves in the yard. No murder scene in the dining room or kitchen. And no never ending hallways with magical doors.

The last place to see was the kitchen. Voldemort opened the door for Mr. Johnson. There was a stout, chubby man in a flannel bath robe bent down, looking into the fridge. He turned around, with a bucket of chicken legs. He was wearing a stained white shirt with smiley face boxers.

"Who are you?" asked Voldemort.

"I own this house. Who the hell are you?"

"You mean you're not selling?" The man shook his head and took a bite of chicken.

"Fuck," said Voldemort.

* * *

**CrazyDreamerGirl: **Sorry it took forever to update. I've been really busy. I just got a puppy, and that's taking up any free time I have left. By the way, today is Voldemort's 80th Birthday. I looked it up...I know I'm weird...So...

**HAPPY BIRTHDAY VOLDIE!**

He asks that you review, and any flames given will be used to cook his birthday dinner.

I also wanna wish you guys a Happy New Year, and a belated Happy Holidays.


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